Broken Promises
by Well I Don't Mind
Summary: What happens inside the castle walls, stays inside the castle walls. What happens when the Princess, who thought she escaped those walls, returns and has to face her tyrannical brother once more? Sequel to A Promise. Warning: Incest and sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: **What happens inside the castle walls, stays inside the castle walls. Ophelia thought she could leave all that has happened behind her, but when she returns to take the crown, and has to face her brother once more, old wounds starts to bleed, and how are such nasty wounds supposed to heal again?

**A/N: **Alright, I'm going to give this a try. I have no idea what to expect, and I have no idea how often I will be able to update due to so many other project. First I thought I wouldn't publish this one just yet, at least not until it had come a bit further in development, but I simply couldn't resist. It's a huge fault of mine.

So, because of several requests of continuing my two-part one-shot _A Promise_, featuring the Princess and Logan, and after a bit of thinking, I decided to continue.

As you may understand, _Broken Promises_ is set after _A Promise_, and is set when the Princess overthrows her brother and takes over the throne.

It is not necessary to read _A Promise_ before this, but I** recommend** you to do it!

**Warning:** Once again, the _M-rating_ is strong, due to sexual and ideologically sensible themes. **_Don't like it, don't read it!_**

**Disclaimer: **The Fable-universe does not belong to me, but to Lionhead Studios, and the quote for this chapter is from **The Cranberries**' song _Promises_.

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><p><em><strong>Broken Promises<strong>_

**Chapter One**  
><em>"All the promises we broke; all the meaningless and empty words I spoke."<em>

"_Promise me one thing, Ophelia; never stand against me."_

"_I promise. I promise."_

He believed her, but circumstances proved he couldn't have been more wrong. Ophelia, his sweet, innocent Ophelia, had betrayed him beyond measure. She had left him, and she had turned his people against him. She had caused him such anxiety, such pain by betraying him, and now, she had taken his kingdom from him. Before, he was one step from the gods, and now, he was nothing more than a man; a petty, shameful man, locked and barred for the crimes committed by him as King. He had misused his powers and had to pay the price.

There were steps echoing in the dungeons, and he heard the guard said "your Majesty". Logan sighed deeply, and there she was, on the other side of the bars, just as petite and beautiful as he remembered her, and yet so much more powerful. She was Queen now. She was divine now.

She looked at him with those green, innocent eyes. "How are you?"

Logan looked away. He couldn't face her now.

"Logan," she whispered, devastation in her voice, but he remained silent. "Logan, you have to understand! You have to understand that I did what I did because I had to."

"You made me a promise once," he spoke, his voice monotonic, and his eyes still on the wall. "But you broke it."

"And you've made hundreds of promises, all which you have broken!" Ophelia cried. "I didn't want to betray you, Logan, but left me no choice!"

He shot a glare at her. "No choice?" He rose from the cold, hard stone bench. "No _choice_?" He walked towards the bars. "What kind of choice did you think _I_ had then? Did you think I chose to become King? Did you think I _chose_ to neglect my own country to save it?"

Tears were forming in her eyes. "I know now why you did all those terrible things, but you did have a choice, Logan."

"You speak of choice as if it is every man and woman's right," he said through gritted teeth while he grabbed the bars. "I speak of it as a rare luxury."

"You could have told the truth," she whispered.

He chuckled darkly. "The truth… and you think the people of Albion would have been happier to know that soon enough, darkness will cover the land, a darkness so thick and so devastating that all light inside them will die and that no light will ever be able to reach them again?"

"At least, they would have known," she said and locked her eyes on his, "and understood."

"I don't need their understanding," he growled. "I need their allegiance!"

"Not anymore," she said. Then she took a deep breath. "Logan, you have to understand one thing; the only reason I spared your life tonight was that you are my brother. Even though I understand why you treated your kingdom like you did, I cannot sympathise with you. There are other ways of saving this land. Neglect is not an option."

"If you want me to believe that you wouldn't have done the same thing, you will have to work very hard to convince me."

"I don't need to convince you." This time, Ophelia was the one to growl. "I am your Queen, and my word is your command."

"Like mine was yours?"

She clenched her jaw and looked away. "I did everything you wanted me to."

"You betrayed me." He held the bars so tightly, his knuckled were turning white. "You left me."

Her petite hand landed on him, softly and tenderly, and a jolt of electricity shot through his body. He had almost forgotten what she felt like. She caressed it slowly. "I know, and I'm sorry. But, I'm here now." She looked up into his eyes, but he looked away and pulled his hand away from hers.

"You've disappointed me, Ophelia," he said. "Beyond measure."

"Did you ever think about how you've disappointed me?" Ophelia asked, but Logan did not answer. "I stayed by your side for as long as I could, but if you really loved me, then why would you ever put me in such a position? How could you put the lives of so many people in my hands?"

"I had to prepare you," Logan said. "I had to prove to you that being a regent wasn't all fun and games! All people die eventually. It's just a matter of how."

"You know I will never forgive you for what you did," she growled under her breath.

"I know that," Logan said arrogantly, looking out the small, barred window. "But, if it's Elliot you miss, you only have yourself to blame; it was your choice, not mine. I wanted to teach you justice."

"You made me choose who deserved to live!" Ophelia spat. "How's that _justice_?"

"It was a proof of that justice isn't always fair," Logan said calmly.

"Fair?" she cried. "What you made me do was monstrous!"

"Why did you choose Elliot, then?" Logan asked and turned to look at her. "What did you base your decision on?"

"That's not fair, Logan," Ophelia muttered.

"Not fair, but necessary," Logan growled and walked closer to the bars. "Tell me; why did you choose to kill Elliot? What went through your pretty, little head when you made the decision?"

Ophelia clenched her jaw and looked away. She did not answer.

"I know; 'what is one life to many?'," he sneered. "A very regal and magnanimous thought, indeed, to sacrifice one to save many, don't you think?" He snorted. "Don't pretend like you're any better than me, sister. You might be a Hero like father, but your mother was just a commoner, without the _heroic_ morality. Her blood runs through your veins." Then he smirked and eyed her in a way he hadn't done in a long time. "You know, you're not _all_ goodness and grace."

She never answered him, but spun on her heel and disappeared, leaving Logan in the darkness of the dungeon, smirking with satisfaction. She was such a fragile, little being, and had been her whole life. A few months wouldn't have changed that. She had proved that tonight by not killing him. He had her wrapped around his little finger; she would always be his. His lovely Ophelia.

**-:(O):-**

She had trouble breathing storming through the castle towards her room. Her meeting with Logan had been much more emotionally draining that she'd first thought, and she feared she would never be able to face him again. But she still felt for him, in ways she wasn't supposed to feel. She had known it was wrong all along, but he had made it feel so right.

"_Ophelia," the King's voice demanded, and she walked into his room with her head down. She was wearing the new dress he'd ordered for her. "Look at me." She did as told. He eyed her and raised a brow, and if it was in consent or not, she did not know. _

"_Is it not of your liking, your Majesty?" she asked sheepishly. _

_He raised his brows nonchalantly and walked towards a buffet where the whiskey was placed. "I had hoped for something a bit more… flattering." He poured a glass to himself and brought it to his mouth. "I want to be able to picture things when I look at you, dearest," he said as he took a sip of the liquor. _

_A shiver ran down her spine as she felt blood rush to her face. "I am sorry to disappoint you, Logan."_

"_Yes, well," he sighed and turned to her. "A few adjustments, and I believe it will be tolerable." He walked up to her. "The cleavage needs to be deeper, and it needs to be tighter around the waist."_

_Her heart raced, and her stomach twisted in an uncomfortable, and strangely yearning, knot as his hand ran lazily over the fabric of her dress._

She shivered. So many times she had cried over what she had done and what Logan forced her to do, and yet she could stop thinking about how good it had felt sometimes. These short, five months she had been away, she had realised that what he had done to her was not out of love, but out of pure hunger for power; he could do it, and therefore he did it. He didn't love her. He never had. He loved power, and the power he had over her.

"_Ophelia," he hissed hungrily as he touched her face, "look at me."_

_She did as told, and looked at him, afraid of showing him how embarrassed he made her feel. "Logan, I don't know if we should really be doing this…"_

"_Of course not," he smirked, "but I'm the King, and who would dare to oppose me?"_

"_Well," she mumbled and looked down. "Perhaps you're right, but—"_

"_Oh, my dear," he sighed, "don't start. We've been over this." He placed a hand on her thigh, his lips curing into a smirk. "You want this, I want this… we're royalties. I am below Avo, and you are below me. Who would ever have the right to tell us what we can and can't do?" _

"_But I—I don't like the toxin," she breathed. "It's making me ill…"_

"_You know we can't make love without it," he breathed into her hear as he pulled her skirts up. _

"_What if I… don't… want to?" she whispered, afraid of how he might react._

_But he only laughed softly and drove his hand under her skirts and landed on her womanhood, and she gasped and blushed violently as he worked his hand against her. "Oh, well," he sneered. "It seems to me like you do want it, indeed." He smirked, and she knew she wouldn't win this time either._

She should have killed him. She should have killed the bastard. How could he have ruined her so? She wasn't experienced with the ways of men when Logan first took her to his bed. She was barely allowed to speak to anyone outside the court! When she had been out in the world, she had seen real love. What Logan had showed her was not real love, and yet he had her think it was for almost a year. Well, she was eighteen now, and Queen. She had killed and nearly died, she had loved and she had lost. After five months of adventuring, she would like to call herself experienced. She had matured ten years in the course of a few months, and she knew now, that Logan did nothing but deprived her of her innocence in a way only a monster would do. And yet she had let him live. And yet, those bloody butterflies kept terrorising her stomach each time his eyes burned into her soul.

Her knees shook as she finally reached her room, and she closed the door firmly behind her. Tears were burning behind her eyes, but she would not let them fall. No, she had cried enough over Logan. She thought back to their first night together, after the Harvest Ball, and she realised they had both lied that night; he did not love her, and she did not promise to never stand against him. And now, she was Queen, and he was spared but locked and barred in the dungeons without food for a week. Did the punishment fit the crime? No.

**-:(O):-**

The stale smell of damp stone wasn't even enough to wipe the smirk off his face. Logan was extremely pleased with himself, for he knew exactly how dear Ophelia worked. He knew exactly what button to push to get the desired effect. He could not care less about the kingdom and the crown, because he was truly glad to be rid of them. No, all he wanted was _her_. And if a week behind bars without food was the price he would have to pay, then so be it.

She didn't visit him again, much to his dismay. Some soldiers came and went, bringing dirty water, all looking rather disgusted by him, taunting him for being a "fallen King" and a "weak regent", but Logan knew that if the bars wouldn't be there, the men would fear him. He might not be a Hero like his sister, but he still shared the same, heroic blood from their father, and – apart from Ophelia's mother – his mother was a warrior, too, fighting side by side with the Hero King. He didn't _need_ heroic powers to be strong, and he wasn't the only one aware of that.

A week without food was easy enough, though not entirely painless; he had done such things before on his many travels around the world. When the week was up, and he was released, he was once more unreachable. Despite him not being King any more, he was still royalty, and he was still above all the others of the court, save for the Queen. He was brought to the Queen's study, that used to be his, after he had been allowed to bathe and change into clean robes, and upon his enter, he saw his younger sibling stand by the window, dressed in a ruby gown that matched her long, curly hair perfectly. She stood with her back to him, and as she turned, he was almost surprised of how unlike herself she looked. Her deep, ruby hair hung gracefully over her back, and strains were diverted from her face and tied in a braid in the back of her head. Her pale face, that before always was adored with lively, pink cheeks was powdered even paler, and her soft lips were painted red. She had a much better posture than he remembered, with her back straight and her head held high. The high collar and the white lace lining it made her neck look longer, and her slim frame made her look taller. She looked regal. He couldn't keep from smiling, but her face remained hard, her green eyes burning him with disdain and discomfort.

"Leave us," she ordered the guards that had taken him there, and they bowed before their Queen and left the room. Logan straightened.

"I see you've embraced this role rather quickly," he said. "Then again; you were bred for this."

"I haven't given you permission to speak yet," she said in a commanding voice. She inhaled deeply before she put her hands on her back and started to pace the room. "Logan; as you know, the Darkness is coming closer. I have faced it, as well as you, and to be able to defeat it, we will have to work together."

Logan rolled his eyes. "I've already told you that—"

"_But_," she interrupted him, "there are a few rules." She paused to look at him, and then she continued pacing. "One; you and I will never be alone in a room together."

"We're alone now."

"_Two_; you are no longer in charge of anything concerning the kingdom, the castle or the people, hence_ I_ decide who will be above you and who won't, and_ you_ will not be able to order anything from anyone." She swallowed before she continued. "Three; to avoid any confusion about our strictly _professional _relationship, you will marry." She inhaled sharply. "I will provide a fair dowry, and when the Crawler's attack is over and we have prevailed, you will move with your wife and potential child, being provided the title as Duke of whatever city or village you may choose to settle in."

Logan clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to laugh at her. Oh, what a pathetic attempt to deny the irresistible tension between them. Didn't she feel it too? Did she not feel the electricity in this very room? Of course she did! That was why she was so nervous. She still respected and feared him in the same fashion she always had. He smirked. "Dear sister," he said, "this must be hard for you. A week of regency, and you're already so fragile you could be broken like a twig."

"How _dare_ you speak to me like that?" she snapped and glared at him. "I'm Queen now. Don't you _ever_ forget that! _I _am below Avo now, and _you're_ below _me_!"

He narrowed his eyes. "Ophelia, don't be silly." He took a step closer, and that was enough for her to break her regal posture and stumble backwards.

"Don't!" she warned, her eyes wide and her voice stained with panic.

Logan stopped. He didn't want to scare her; he wanted her so realise that they belonged together and that her childish behaviour would benefit neither of them. He sighed. "My dear, I'm not the enemy."

"Rule number four," she breathed, her face even paler; "you are not allowed to stand closer than five feet to me."

"When will you stop this?" he asked lowly and took a step closer.

"I warn you!" she breathed and took another step back.

"Don't you see that resisting is pointless?" he asked and knitted his brows.

"Don't come any closer!"

"Let us face the coming Darkness together," he murmured and walked closer still. "You're still very young, Ophelia. You can't do this on your—"

"_Guards_!" she yelled.

Logan clenched his jaw. He opened his mouth to speak, but just as he was to begin, the doors flew open, and the two guards rushed into the room.

"Your Majesty?" one of them said.

"We're done here," Ophelia said and quickly regained her posture. "Take Logan to his quarters."

"Don't," Logan said. "I'll go by myself." And with that, he left her room, more hopeful that ever that eventually, she would break and come back to him.

_He waited patiently for her that night, sitting in the armchair, staring in to the raging fire in the hearth and he had consumed a bit more liquor than usual. She had been with Elliot that night, he knew that. Oh, how he couldn't stand that boy! His sweet, beautiful Ophelia was only polluted by that petty excuse of a Lord! Perhaps he should send him away? Where was far away? Brightwall? Or perhaps Southcliff? _

_There was a small knock on the door, and he snapped out of his thoughts. "Enter." He could hear the door open and close and her cautious steps coming towards him. "You've kept me waiting."_

"_Forgive me." Her silky voice made the hair on his body stand, and he smiled. _

"_You're forgiven," he said and reached out his hand for her to take. He could feel her place her delicate hand in his, very uncertainly, and allowed him to pull her close. He brought her hand to his lips and planted a kiss on her knuckles. "I have missed you, dearest." He looked up at her; her ruby hair was dressed in such fashion, ringlets dangled from her temples, and her curls were tucked into one, rather big but graceful head of hair. Her cheeks had a bit deeper shade of pink that usual, and it pleased him. Her green eyes glimmered by the firelight, and she was wearing one of her newest dresses, one that flattered her beautiful shapes perfectly. The string of pride inside of his grew even bigger; this perfect, beautiful, young woman before him was his. She was his. "Pray, where have you been hiding?"_

"_I—I was out with Elliot." She spoke silently and looked down on her feet. She knew perfectly well how he felt about her and Elliot. _

"_I thought you said you didn't want anything more to do with him?" Logan said dryly, feeling how an uninvited flame of jealousy kindled inside of him. Why should he be jealous? Elliot was nothing compared to him. Nothing. _

"_I forgave him," she whispered. "I'm sorry, Logan, but he is my best friend."_

"_As long as you stay that way," he commanded before he pulled her to his lap. "Remember who you belong with."_

"_Forgive me," she breathed and traced a hand along his chest. _

_Electricity shot through his body as she touched him, and he leaned closer to kiss her._

"_Logan?" she whispered as their lips brushed against each other._

"_Yes, my love?" he replied. _

"_Please, promise me to love me," she breathed into his mouth, and he wanted nothing but to have her._

"_Always," he breathed back as their lips finally met, and he pulled her into a deep and passionate kiss._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I warned you! ;) Well, at last, I've finished chapter two. Now.. I don't know when the next chapter will be up and about, though. Oh well.

**Disclaimer:** The title of the chapter is from **Damien Rice's** song _9 Crimes_.

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><p><em><strong>Broken Promises<strong>_

**Chapter Two**  
>"<em>It's the wrong kind of place to be thinking of you."<em>

Sleeping was troublesome, and had been for the past five months. Ophelia paced her room, finding it hard to even stop. There was so much going on inside of her head, so much she wasn't prepared for. Her fear for Logan was one of these things. She had no reason to fear him, and yet she did. But the fear wasn't only of him; it was also of herself. She knew what power Logan had over her, and she could not trust herself with him. There was something about that man that called for her, that lured her in and trapped her. She felt it the moment she laid eyes on him again. She felt it the moment she closed her eyes and felt his touch once again. She felt it the moments her dreams started to weave into reality and let it consume her. He had her, but she would fight it. She would fight _him_, and she would fight him to the very end. She always had, in some degree, but for too long she had been too weak to defy him. But now, she wasn't that weak little girl any longer. She was a Hero.

As she dressed in a black and scarlet gown, she inspected her scars. They weren't many, but they were deep. The deepest, caused by a Balverine, trailed along her back, and a smaller, neater one sliced along her right shoulder and collarbone. Minor bullet wounds could be found all over her body, only as tiny dots, and on her right hand, there was a small burn mark, she caused herself when her pistol once backfired miserably. She mourned the horrid transformation of her body, even though she knew it could be much worse. Luckily, her face was still untouched. For how long, though, was another matter. She braided her hair like she always did; some strands tied away from the face, bound loosely at the back of her head, with the rest of her long, ruby curls falling on her back. She didn't powder her face today; no duties on the agenda required such attention. She then wielded her sword and let it fall gracefully from her hip, before she left her room to perform her duties as Queen.

Walter Beck, that nowadays went by the title of General, was waiting for her in the war-room, and as she entered, she also found amongst the party Page, Ben Finn, Sabine, Kalin and… Logan. Yes, she was the one who had said that she needed him. She simply avoided his gaze as she straightened her back and walked up to the map-table.

"Your Majesty," the party greeted her, and took deep bows. She saw, by the corner of her eye, that Logan did the same, though with a very vexing smirk upon his face.

She nodded politely and looked at the map-table. "What is the plan?"

Walter then proceeded to tell her all about what he and Ben had planned, as well as Page, Kalin and Sabine. When they were all done, she had to face Logan, for he was next. Reluctantly, she met his fixed gaze, and she shivered violently.

"My men will guard the city," he said, still with his regally demanding voice, and looked at the others, much to Ophelia's relief. "They are well trained and they know the city in and out. Besides," he turned his gaze back at her, more entrancing than ever, "the Queen requires the best protection the kingdom can offer."

Ophelia swallowed. "Don't worry about my protection," she managed to say, as coolly as she could, "care more about the protection of the people."

"As you wish, my Queen," he mused and nodded.

Ophelia felt her heart rate increase. The tingling feeling inside her body exploded, and she cursed herself for being so easily manipulated by him. This was exactly what he wanted. This was his desired effect. But she would not let him win. Not now, not never. She kept her face blank and looked at Walter. "Very well then," she said. "Looks like this meeting is over."

"Yes," Walter said. "Oh, and Ophelia, Hobson would very much like to speak to you."

"Of course," she muttered. What was it now? Was the gold not _shiny_ enough? "Very well, I shall be on my way, then."

"Let me accompany you, sister," Logan said. "I have some matters to discuss with Hobson myself."

Ophelia froze. She could say no. She could tell him, that he was no longer involved with this kingdom's financial matters, but at the same time, she didn't want the others to think she resented her own brother enough to keep him out like that. After all, she _did_ spare his life for a reason. "Of course, brother," she finally said, her voice almost choked by sudden fear. She then turned to Ben next to her. "Perhaps you'd like to accompany us, Major? To learn a bit about the treasury could be educational for you, and help you along your recruit." She looked at him with pleading eyes, hoping that Ben knew her enough by now, to know when she was desperate.

The blonde soldier knitted his brows, and then he nodded. "Well, your Majesty, you know best!" He gave her a comforting smile, and she felt her body ease. Surely, Logan would do nothing with Ben present. After all, he had always wished to keep their affair as secret as she, even the times she had been as most compliant.

_Slowly, oh so slowly, he undressed her. It was as if it had become a ritual, where he had his certain way of undressing her to do it properly. She stood still, breathing heavily, feeling her heart race as he slowly unlaced her corset. Before he took it off, he pressed his lips against the hollow between her shoulder and her neck, and his hands trailed to her front and squeezed her breasts gently as he let the unlaced corset slide down to reveal them. Blood flushed to her cheeks as his grip tightened and he pulled her closer. _

"_Relax, my love," he murmured in her ear._

"_Logan," she breathed. "Logan, please!"_

"_You don't like this?" There was sincere surprise in his voice, and she gasped. _

_Liked it? His touch made her feel things she would never be able to feel otherwise. He released her from any prior anxiety, and he pleased her so fully and completely, she was raised to divinity. No, she did not just _like_ it, she _needed_ it. "Yes," she breathed. "But I need you now!" She turned to face him, and the desire that radiated from his eyes where enough to make her ache for him. He reached down to kiss her, and she stood on her toes to reach up to him. They clashed together with such force, their teeth almost smashed into each other. She stepped out of her corset before Logan lifted her up to allow her to wrap her legs around his waist as he carried her to his bed. He put her down and crawled on top of her, and as he drove his hands all across her body, she moaned softly and closed her eyes. So wrong. It was so wrong! And yet… as she felt his hand run up her petticoat, she gasped, and her heart was almost jumping out of her chest. "Oh, Logan," she moaned, and she felt his lips touch her bare chest. _

"_Ophelia," he hissed, "promise me you haven't bedded with anyone other than me!"_

"_You know I haven't," she breathed, struggling from losing control over her voice as he played with her womanhood, and she trembled violently. _

"_Promise me!" he growled as he brought his face to hers. _

_She opened her eyes. "I—" But she was interrupted by a loud knock from the study. She gasped. "Someone's coming!"_

_Logan pulled away and looked towards the door. There was still the library and study between them and the door, but there was no idea to take any risks. "You have to go," he said, his eyes still fixed on the door. "Use the passage. I'll come to you tonight. But we can't take any risks now."_

_Ophelia sat up and gazed at him. "But—"_

"_Ophelia!" Logan growled and looked at her. "What if it's Walter coming in through that door?"_

"_I thought you didn't care," she said._

_He sighed and brought his hand to her face. "Of course I do," he frowned. "It's your reputation, and mine, that is at stake here. People would never understand the love we share! Now, go!"_

_Ophelia nodded and hurried towards the servants' passage, her heart pounding and her desire throbbing. But her brother did right. He always did right. _

Ophelia was quiet as the three walked through the long halls of the castle. Ben had taken the liberty of walking in the middle, much to Ophelia's relief, and he was also the one to stand for the conversation. In fact, he was the only one conversing and required little in response. Logan walked silently beside him with his hands behind his back. Even though she didn't want to admit it, Ophelia did steal a glance or two in her brother's direction, somehow hoping he was looking back at her. But as she realised he wasn't, she snorted to herself. What was she thinking? Why did she wish him to look at her? It made no sense.

Ben kept on conversing while both Ophelia and Logan kept silent, and they entered the treasury without uttering another word. Hobson went on and on about the treasury, as usual, and was happy to be conversing with Ben, since he seemed rather interested. Whether or not he actually was, was impossible to tell.

All while, Ophelia and Logan stood silent, on each side of the conversing men, stealing glances at one another. Ophelia couldn't stop feeling how she just wanted to plant a fist in Logan's face because of the way he looked at her, and because of the way he made her feel. But she had to be the bigger person. She had to be the Queen, and she had to show Logan that she didn't care for him any longer, no matter how hard it would be.

**-:(O):-**

It was like poison for Logan to stand there, so close to his dear Ophelia, and yet so far away. No matter how strict and how regal she seemed, he still saw the young, insecure woman in her, the young woman he was born to protect, the woman he was born to love.

The Major's rambling was tiring, for sure, but soon enough he would find a time and place to be alone with the Queen. But, for the moment, he could only accept the fact that he had to keep his distance and let her have her little meeting with Hobson before she took her leave together with the Major. The short, pudgy man then turned to Logan.

"Can I help you, my Lord?" the little man asked and shifted awkwardly.

"No, not now," Logan answered. But then something hit him; something rather sinister and yet so genius, he simply couldn't resist. He then knitted his eyebrows and looked down on the short man. "Although, there is one, rather important thing I could use your help for."

"Yes, Sire?"

"I want you to come with all the financial reports to me rather than to my sister."

"I beg your pardon?"

Logan put his hands behind his back and started to pace the room. "As you know, Ophelia is not that talented when it comes to dealing with money. She's an adventurous girl, and has always been. She's not that… well, administrative, I suppose. And judging by our current economical situation, we might need someone more… familiar with the system to make the decisions. Therefore I require your collaboration."

"Well, I—" Hobson started, clearly a bit taken aback by this request. "I must agree with you Sire, but… well, to go behind the Queen's back? That's treason, my Lord!"

Logan laughed. "Hobson, pray, whoever said anything about going behind the Queen's back? I am merely suggesting that we simply ease the Queen's mind by taking this problem off of her shoulders."

"I'm terribly sorry, sir, but I do not want to face the gallows," Hobson sighed.

"Trust me," Logan said, "if you are charged with treason, I will defend you and your honour." He looked at the short man, but as his face still beamed of insecurity and doubt, Logan sighed and rolled his eyes. "Well, you are indeed a hard negotiator. What about a hundred pieces of gold for your loyalty?"

"A hun—oh, Sire, that's very generous, I dare say!" Hobson gasped. "However, I—I shouldn't—"

"Come now Hobson, old friend!" Logan laughed. "You know as well as I that you can't resist gold! Besides, we're not going being her back! We're helping her!"

Hobson was still in doubt. "I don't really understand the desired effect, Sire!"

Logan's face hardened. "Isn't it obvious? The desired effect is to save this kingdom from a certain economical collapse. My sister has no notion of financial strategy. She doesn't know the meaning of taking responsibility for other people's hold of money. All she cares about is to save this kingdom from the evil that threatens it, though she never – not once – has given a though of _how_ to save it. I say it's better to keep it that way, and build the ground for her while she concentrates on the saving part."

"Well," Hobson swallowed. "When you put it that way…"

"I knew you were a clever man," Logan said and headed towards the door.

"Oh, and my hundred pieces of gold, Sire?" Hobson called after him.

"When you've proven yourself a worthy ally," Logan said as he stopped by the open door, but he didn't turn, "I will double it." He then left the room, feeling a sense of accomplishment, though not a very noble one.

In the days coming, Logan did not see his sister much. She was busy in the war-room discussing strategies with Walter, or whatever they did. It left Logan rather restless, and all he could do was to wander around the Castle grounds, figuring out how to develop his sinister plan. Taking over the financial part without her knowing it would cause confusion in the Queen's pretty little head, and who would be the first she would turn to for help if not Logan, no matter how reluctant she may be? And once she was dependent on him, he could easily wrap her around his little finger. It was a foot through the door, one toe at a time, and then he would be her King again, though not officially.

But as the days went by, and as Ophelia was shyer than ever, Logan started to suspect that she was up to something, and when he received an audience with the Queen, he _knew_ she was up to something. He entered one of her studies, only to be faced by a dozen young women, all dressed sharply with flushed cheeks. For a second, he lost his regal face and stood staring at the crowd. Ophelia stood smirking amongst them as she took a step forwards.

"Brother," she said. "Welcome." She walked gracefully to stand beside him and placed her hand on his arm, and sent an electrical shock shooting through his body. "Come with me."

Without question, he followed her into a smaller room, where she let go of him, and then walked to the door. "Well, Ophelia," Logan asked. "What is this?"

"As I've told you, you are in the need of a wife," she started, "so I have gathered twelve of the finest young Noble daughters around Albion, and you are to choose one of them."

Logan clenched his jaw hard, narrowed his eyes and his upper lip was twitching. How _dared_ she? But he decided to keep a straight face and let her make her move. He knew he would beat her sooner or later. "Very well," he said and leaned against the fireplace. "Send them in."

Ophelia opened the door and asked the first lady to enter. It was a pretty, blonde girl with eyes like honey and skin like marble. She had a nice figure, he couldn't deny that, but she seemed too shy. She almost didn't dare to look him in the eye.

"This is Elvira Smith, daughter of the Duke of Westcliff," Ophelia said, and the girl curtsied.

"Too shy," Logan said and dismissed her.

Ophelia nodded, though very tensely, and lead the girl out while leading a new one to the room. This one had hair like chocolate, eyes like black beetles and sun kissed skin. She was a bit taller than Ophelia, and was a very elegant woman, indeed. However, there was an air of silliness about her.

"This is Annabel Moore, Baroness of Brightwall."

"Too silly," Logan sighed.

Once again, Ophelia left the room with one girl and entered with another, and so it continued. But not one could tickle his fancy. They were either too short or too thin, too plain or too boring, too silly or too snobby. When the final girl had been dismissed, Ophelia spent some time apologising for her incompetent brother before she thanked the girls for their participation, and then rejoined her brother in the other room.

Logan had smirked from when she had left the room to talk to the women, until she entered it again, and even then, he was smirking. "That didn't go quite as planned now, did it, dearest?"

Ophelia crossed her arms. "Why do you have to be so difficult?"

"Difficult?" Logan snarled. "You are the one who's being unreasonable! You think you can get rid of the problem by marrying me away to some silly girl who hasn't got the slightest clue of the world around her?" He took a step closer, and she took a step back. "It won't solve the problem, Ophelia. You will still want me, and I will still want you, and that's how it's always going to be."

"You're wrong!" Ophelia growled.

"Oh, am I?" Logan growled and closed the distance between them and grabbed her wrists to drag her close to him. She fought him some, but he could feel she was far too frightened and shocked to do any real resistance. "Can you feel that? It's my heart beating for you, and I know yours are beating for me!"

She looked at him with big eyes. "Logan," she breathed, "Logan, you're hurting me!"

"Stop being so stubborn," Logan murmured as he pressed his lips against her ear. "It doesn't suit you."

"Let go!" she snarled, but he did not.

"Stop this, Ophelia," Logan said. "You want it as much as I do."

"I said;" she growled, "let go!" And with that she tore herself from Logan's grip and let her hand fly across his face, and the whipping sound of flesh hitting flesh with such a speed and strength, echoed through the room. "Don't you _dare_ do that again! I can have you beheaded at any second! Remember that the next time you're about to touch me!" And with that, she spun on her heel and stormed out.

Logan closed his eyes, feeling the touch of her skin under his fingertips once again, wishing that for one night, just one night, she would be his again.

**-:(O):-**

Ophelia stormed through the castle halls. Tears were well on their way, but she wouldn't let Logan win. No, she wouldn't cry over him. She would cry just because she was confused. She wouldn't cry just because they had been so close, she didn't know what do to. No, she wouldn't cry, because she had to be strong. Logan could not win.

As she entered her room, she locked the door tightly, and paced the room while she tried to force her teas back. It was all just a game. He was toying with her, trying to find her breaking point. But she would show him, that she didn't have that breaking point any longer. She wasn't the same girl she once was; she was a Queen. A Hero. She would not be broken down. She would not be beaten. Not by him.

But his hands on her were like fire, and she couldn't help that her heart skipped a beat whenever he looked at her, or even more so, whenever he spoke to her. His lips moved like honey in warm water, but his words were like poison. They crept under her skin, and made her shiver of both pleasure and discomfort. She knew she couldn't let herself believe his silver tongue when he spoke of love and destiny, but it was so hard! Especially when she knew that there always was some truth to what he said. She did care for him, deeply, and she knew, that if she let herself close to him again, anything could happen.

"Be strong," she told herself. "Don't let Logan be your number one problem." She sighed and nodded to herself. "Because he isn't a problem, really. He's just the bug under your foot. Yes, he's the bug under your foot, and your main worry should be the safety of this kingdom. Yes, that sounds good, Ophelia." She nodded again. _That sounds good_.


End file.
